


you are the life i needed all along

by orphan_account



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, i have no idea where im going with this but its gonna be cute ok, this is abandoned sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-05 16:04:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12193155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When Akechi awakes, he finds himself oddly alive. It should have been impossible, and knowing what awaited him in reality, he was a little bit disappointed he hadn't. Now, he knew what it felt to have a fate worse than death.But, he gets to know the victim of his attempted murder a little bit better, and it feels a lot like heaven.





	1. almost home and i miss the bottom stair

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first fanfic [sweats]

The world seemed bent on surprising Akira.

He distinctly remembers the day Akechi came back into his life, more an unceremonious flop, all so uncharacteristic for him, rather than a crawl. He remembers Akechi desperately clutching his side to try and quell some of the pain of the bullet wounds, lurching into Leblanc before sliding down alongside the door way, blood trickling from his hands and down onto the floor.

_Why didn't you go to the hospital?_ Akira hissed. He wouldn't worry himself with how Akechi was even here, at least not right now. He already thought he'd lost Akechi once; he wasn't going to lose him now, not when he was right in front of him.

In truth, he knew why Akechi hadn't gone to the hospital, but there was little to be done outside of that (the only other option was Takemi, but that didn't seem appropriate given the severity of his injuries). Akechi protested, because of course he did, and Akira could see two different fears warring in his mind: death or imprisonment. With the way Akechi complained, even as Akira furiously began mashing '119' on his phone, the former didn't seem daunting to him anymore. It wasn't a surprise, but it did make Akira's chest clench a little, not helped by Akechi's loose grip on life ebbing in spite of Akira's pleads of 'no' and 'just wait a little longer, you'll be fine'.

They both knew he wasn't, but he offered Akira shaky, pained smile in what was meant to be an assuring gesture, before he blacked out.

\--

Akechi woke up to harsh fluorescent lighting.

Groggy and unaware, his first instinct was to throw the sheets over his head and second was to curse whoever thought having lights on at 3 A.M. was a good idea. While his facade suggested otherwise, he hated mornings. There was a reason he so often went to Leblanc --

Leblanc.

Now, he remembers -- he sits up, gasping a little when his bandaged wounds protested at the quickness of it, fingers clutching the sheets. His brain lit with the same nerves he'd had that night; in the back of his mind he wondered just how much time had passed since he'd blacked out, but he isn't given the time to ponder it because apparently him sounding like a panicked goldfish attracted the attention of one of the nurses. Akechi, for the first time in his life being too spent to converse, stares blankly, less at him and more in his general direction.

"So, it seems like you're finally awake, huh?" He tries to be jovial, but the nervous tone wasn't missed. Of course. When Shido confessed he'd likely indulged the public to Akechi's own crimes as well. It didn't matter the circumstances; he'd murdered on multiple occasions and now that was the only thing he'd be known for. He was no longer the pristine, well-spoken sweetheart of the public eye; every time someone saw his face they'd instead be reminded of a wild-card murderer. It was a painful dose of karma.

"It would appear so," he answered. His voice was cool as always, but the hint of irritation seemed to be enough to send the nurse scrambling elsewhere. Not long ago, he would have faked grave apologeticness over his sour temper, but in his current situation he couldn't feign it. "Ah, someone wanted to be notified once you regained consciousness. They should be here soon." he chirps in the distance, his keenness on keeping space between him and Akechi not missed.

It was either Akira or it was the police. Maybe both. He wouldn't fault Akira for it; Akechi was no more than a serial killer, and he'd attempted to kill Akira on two seperate encounters. It would be the safe, calculated thing to do. It was what Akechi deserved.

His mind decided to unhelpfully provide him with the facts that Akira was neither safe, nor calculated, nor someone whose idea of justice melded well with the rest of society. That was the infuriating thing about him, always so carefree and reckless, jumping into life-or-death situations without a plan and somehow coming out fine.

Only Akira Kurusu was smart enough to fake his own death but stupid enough to help the person who pulled the trigger.

He spent what felt like an eternity fiddling with the railing of the cot before someone else entered the room. Even though he'd known who to expect, it didn't stop him from death-gripping the rails; though, to his credit, Akira looked fairly disheveled himself. There was a pause, and Akechi could see the gears turning in his visitor's head. He wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.

"You motherfucker," Akira snarled, closing the space between the two, and for a moment Akechi was sure Akira had came to beat him up. Apparently it was written across Akechi's face, too, because Akira immediately softened, though his voice was still raw (Akechi wondered if he'd been crying). "I thought you were going to die -- do you know what I felt, thinking you died only to see you come back, just to nearly die again?"

There was so much he wanted to say -- no one had shown him this much concern, let alone the guy he'd tried to kill not too long ago -- but instead he watched him with cold, flinty eyes. "Why?"

"What do you mean?"

Akechi furrows his brows, as if it wasn't the most obvious thing on earth. "Why, exactly, do you care so much about my fate? I tried to--" he begins, but Akira cuts in.

"Haven't forgotten. I'm not too bothered, though," Akira smiles -- like he just didn't come close to breaking down in front of Akechi -- as he grows visibly more frustrated. "You're forgetting you were willing to die for me."

Akechi ignores that comment. "That failed to answer my question, but I won't press." Finally laying back down, he raised his eyebrows at Akira (who decided to finally sit down in the flimsy plastic chair in the corner instead of hovering over him like he was a piece of meat). "Indulge me this, then: to what extent is my capture coveted?"

"Capture?" he echoes, and Akechi glowers, thinking he'll have to spell things out for him again -- how had someone this dense managed to one-up him -- but luckily for his waning patience, Akira's brain decides to properly function for what felt like the first time since he entered the room. "Oh. It isn't."

He's pretty sure Akira likes answering him with no elaboration just to see his reaction. "You have an ... annoying penchant for vagueness. I'm no fool, Kurusu. You can't expect me to believe that the police aren't in pursuit of me after what I've done."

"I'm being honest." he shrugs with that irritating nonchalence. "Shido took responsibility for all of it. With how he betrayed the trust of the entire country, they were eager to prosecute him for it without much explanation. As far as I know, you haven't been mentioned once throughout this. You're just considered missing." he explains.

"I'm not sure if I should be relieved or offended by that level of incompetency."

"Both?" Akira errs on the side of relieved, judging by the way his shoulders slack and looking around like he's about to be jumped.

Akechi smiles thinly. "Both. I suppose you had something to do with the nurse looking like he was being held at gunpoint, then?" He cringes, immideately regretting his choice of words. He opens his mouth to stutter out a hasty apology, but Akira holds up his hand, half-amused.

"I had to get creative when convincing staff to let me in past visiting hours."

"What a hero," he hummed, only partially sarcastic. "But are you sure 'creative' is the word you're looking for?" Akechi's pretty sure all Akira had to do was mention his name, else the hospital succumb to Phantom Thief wrath.

Akira gasps in mock offense. "Are you implying I'm a brute, Akechi?"

"And if I am?" he shoots back, but he can't keep that tiny hint of fond teasing out of his voice, even if he tries to hide it.

"Testy." Akira laughs. There's a thick pause before Akira speaks again. "So," he drums his fingers against his knee, and Akechi has half a mind to ask Akira why he's even trying to put things delicately with his attempted murderer. But he doesn't. "How are you alive, exactly? I thought I'd never see you again." There it was, the same scared tone he'd had when he first entered the room creeping back in, like he was afraid this was all a long strung out dream and he'd wake back up to a world where Akechi was actually dead.

"I really don't know myself." It was bothersome for Akechi, who wanted to be honest as possible for the time being, but the look Akira gave him, a look that had been reflective of Akechi's frustration throughout this entire conversation, was rewarding. "I lost consciousness after I was shot. I was in an odd state for a while after, like I was floating in my own head. It felt like only a few minutes, but that doesn't seem to be case here." It was an easy lie. He didn't have the energy to explain the details right now. He would, in time, but that time would be when he wasn't in a hospital and he wasn't still drowsy with pain medications.

Akira shakes his head. "You're right. It's been a few weeks. It was hard, constantly hearing rumors about you on the news, how you were a coward who ran away as soon as you were proven wrong about the Phantom Thieves. I hated being one of the only people who knew the truth, that you sacrificed yourself for the sake of the world. Every time I heard someone talk badly of you, I wanted to yell at them, tell them what really happened, but I couldn't." He's clutching the side of the chair.

Akechi nearly reminds Akira that he's far from a hero and that, albeit not for the correct reasons, he deserves the public's ire, but he decides to not invalidate what Akira says for once. "I'm sorry," he sighs. The words, genuinely spoken, feel foreign coming from his mouth. "For everything. There isn't a point in worrying about me, however--"

Akira wastes no time in going back to the side of the bed. "Yes, there is." he hisses. "I know, you've done bad things, but in the end the blame all rests on Shido, not you. If you're so sorry, do this one thing for me and quit talking so harshly of yourself -- _please_." The irritation in his voice is unexpected, but it comes from good enough a place to make Akechi smile after the surprise fades.

"You're an odd one, Kurusu. But ... thank you. I've never had someone like you in my life." He comes close to saying Akira, but even now it feels like that's a boundary he shouldn't cross.

Akira smiles softly, the harshness on his face long gone. "I won't be leaving."

 

 


	2. if your needle is near

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so i have a sinus infection and its 7 am and i haven't slept so i can't guarantee this will be coherent to anyone not on way too much medicine and sleep deprived
> 
> p.s: i hate not being able to breathe

Akira did, unfortunately, have to leave; he couldn't leave Sojiro out in the car until morning, and there wasn't exactly anywhere for Akira to sleep (he had suggested trying to sleep in the plastic chair, but Akechi shut that idea down quickly). He still visited, of course; he tried to do so after school, usually, but he still spent time with the others. He hadn't told them yet, and he didn't plan on doing so until Akechi was released, and even then, it would only be if Akechi wanted to make himself known. Sojiro knew by the default of having been the one to drive Akira to the hospital, Morgana knew because he still had a second home in Akira's bag (he'd even visited Akechi a few times with him), and Futaba knew because Futaba.

They were good about keeping the secret, though. He'd worried over how Futaba and Sojiro would react, but they seemed to be okay with things. Futaba mumbled something about how she'd only forgive him if he would marathon Featherman with her.

Akira would be sure to remind him of that.

\--

Akechi was made painfully aware of how he'd never like to be hospitalized again. Hospitals themselves were one things, and frequenting them hadn't been uncommon given his occupation, but being bedridden, useless, at the mercy of the very person you tried to destroy, was a beast he wanted to defamiliarize himself with as soon as possible.

He wasn't accustomed to being stagnant. If he wasn't busy with cases, he was busy perpetuating the very crimes he was going to solve, and if not that he was busy with school. He'd always had an outlet, even if they were shallow. Before, at least he knew what he was doing; it might have been hell, but he had had a goal then. Now, he felt completely and utterly listless. It was the same feeling that had driven him not long ago, but this time, he wanted this needing to belong to, hopefully, result in something good.

He needed something he could look upon fondly --

"Hey."

Akechi narrowly avoided choking on his orange juice. He managed to swallow it without a coughing fit, thankfully. He'd been through enough the past few weeks without adding 'choking on juice' to the list. It, as usual, didn't get past him. The grin he was sporting told him that well enough.

"Did I scare you?"

Akechi frowns, because if he doesn't he'll definitely smile and he's not rewarding Akira with that. "No, you didn't. I thought a master of stealth such as yourself could tell the difference between being caught off-guard and genuinely frightened."

"I entered a hospital after-hours because I dropped my name to them and told them that if they didn't let me in I would work my 'phantom thief magic on them'. What master of stealth are you talking about." Akira snorts, and it's hardly the time to be thinking about this but he really envies how Akira can present himself plainly, unpolished and reckless, and not feel some form of vulnerability or shame.

"You're right. That was too much praise, even for a joke."

He'd said it before, but Akira really was special (he'd worded it differently, though, and he was not going to boost Akira's ego anymore, thanks). Akechi had never had this opportunity, to freely banter and jab at a peer without worrying about the consequences of his words, about the disapproving society that loomed over him, about the fans that mindlessly flocked to the charming, pure-hearted character he performed as only to turn away once the tides turned in another's favor, about the father that _would have very well killed him_ if he stepped out of line. It feels odd, in a lot of ways, though. He instinctively reaches out to some standard to conform to, and he can't help but panic a little now that there isn't one. Yet, he's found a friend who understands him, in spite of his past, in spite of all that he had done. Freedom was a terrifying prospect, but one he was slowly beginning to welcome.

"Oh, by the way, you know you're going to be released in two days, right?"

"Thankfully." He couldn't stand anymore of this place. "But what about it?"

"You won't have anywhere to go, will you? That apartment of yours has probably been leased out to someone else at this point."

"Probably. I'll manage, however. Money will be an issue, but it's not like I'm not unaccustomed to living alone."

"Stay with me?" It's a loaded question, and for once Akira seems to understand the heaviness of his words. If the strangled silence coming from Akechi wasn't enough to tip off Akira that he was feeling way too many emotions to function, the way he tried and shove the kindness away was.

"You live in an _attic._ "

"You've been in there before. It's a big attic." Should probably explain why he's still living in an attic, too, but not right now. "Besides, you want to lay low, right? The only people who might be in there from time to time all know you're still kicking. It's your best option."

"I wish I had as much certainty about this as you do." he sighed, strumming his fingers against the cot railing. It'd became a habit for him. "Are you sure they would welcome me? And it's not like you can fit another bed in there, big as it might be."

"I'm honestly offended that you don't want to sleep in the same bed as me."

This. This was better. He could handle bickering with Akira, but he couldn't handle the fact that someone cared for his well-being in the slightest. "Good."

"Rude. They're both fine with it, though. Futaba says that you have to watch an entire season of Featherman with her, though. I'll sleep on the couch, by the way."

"What -- and why?"

"It's a cartoon. Please just call it anime around her though. Please." He doesn't want to invoke her wrath over the labeling of Featherman again. "I'm not letting someone freshly released from the hospital after being shot sleep on that couch, okay? I make no guarantees about Morgana, though. Pretty sure he doesn't care who he's sleeping on as long as they radiate heat."

" ... Why are you still so nice to me?"

"It feels right."

"So you're doing it because you feel obligated--"

Akira draws back to that heavy sigh Akechi'd grown accustomed to every time he would ask him about this. "No. I'm doing this because you deserve a whole lot better than what you ended up with. You aren't the pawn everyone around you has treated you like. You're a human being, and you were willing to die for the same people who ruined all your plans in the first place."

"And I managed to fail sacrificing myself, too. My resume is blossoming." Akechi tries to act casually snarky about it, but there's no denying it, that hint of bitterness that he hadn't died.

"Don't act like you surviving is a bad thing."

"Are you glad I'm alive, Kurusu-kun?"

Akira laughs, and it comes out so harsh Akechi is sure that for a moment Akira is going to say no. But he knows better. "I've been visiting you more or less every day for these odd couple of weeks, I cried myself raw when I realized you were conscious and I could see you again, I'm letting you stay in my room and take my bed, and you're asking if I'm glad you're alive?" He wheezes, and Akechi isn't sure if it's out of dismay or sheer nerve. "God -- I --- of course I am, you idiot." He seems to be at a loss, for once, so he just ends up punctuating his sentence by ruffling Akechi's hair and backing away before Akechi has the chance to swat his hand away, who, speaking of which, now has that same shell-shocked face he has any time Akira shows him any form of human decency.

"Right. I shouldn't have asked that. Sorry." He inhales, and his fingers find the sheets in his lap to twiddle with instead of the railing. "When I said I wished we could have met a few years ago, I truly meant it. Things could have ended up drastically better -- no one would have ended up dying because I thought that disposing of innocent people, a few of which left behind their own children, was a way to avenge my mother. I hate that I had to nearly die to understand how hypocritical and warped my sense of justice was, that if it weren't for Sakura-san placing a bug on my phone I would have shot you in the head. There's no undoing the past and there's no undoing all the lives I took and how I harmed the lives of so many others, but, I'm glad that, of all people, you're the one who is willing to be my friend in spite of everything." His eyes are much more interested in not looking at Akira, now, now that he's laid so much of himself out. He feels exposed, and while he knows Akira isn't going to use him, every instinct screams to shove him away, and he scarcely avoids giving in to those demons.

"So does that mean you'll stay with me?"

Akechi sputters. "How, exactly, did you deduce _that_ from _that_?"

"I learn from the best."

"If I say yes, will you try to stop giving me a heart attack every ten minutes?"

"I'm out of the contract business, sorry."

 


	3. cancel on me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this tweet is the entire fic:
> 
> https://twitter.com/goroakechibot/status/919762590443585538
> 
> my chapters are so short im sorry. maybe one day they'll be long
> 
> also poor akira. ryuji means no harm but he takes it an entirely different way
> 
> (ps: this song is very akeshu https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DupcdHAkjSU)
> 
>  
> 
> (ps x2: have i ever mentioned i love morgana)  
> (ps x3: i've decided to disclose my twitter which is https://twitter.com/nadireon. hmu)

> [akira] ok so  
> [akira] guys  
> [ann] ????  
> [ryuji] ya  
> [futaba] >:3c  
> [futaba] SPILL THE BEANS!!  
> [akira] futaba you already know ok  
> [makoto] Know what?  
> [haru] yea, SPILL THE BEANS O:<  
> [akira] you guys are already thinking i'm about to tell you smth hype  
> [ann] You've already got me hype so it better be  
> [akira] what if i just wanted to tell you morgana let out a really big yawn

Morgana -- who was intently hovering over his phone -- half-heartedly swipes at him in protest. "Get to the point!"

> [futaba] YAWN HYPE?  
> [ryuji] bro just tell please  
> [Akira] wait shit where's yusuke  
> [futaba] probably goggling at a painting  
> [futaba] WE CAN TELL HIM LATER come on

Akira's fingers ghost over the screen, hesitating for a half-second.

> [akira] akechi's alive  
> [futaba] :D  
> [ann] WHAT  
> [ann] How  
> [ryuji] Dude  
> [ryuji] He died  
> [ryuji] Wtf  
> [Makoto] Really??  
> [haru] !!! o:  
> [ann] DEETS PLS  
> [akira] idk like a few weeks ago he kind of crawled into leblanc and then just collapsed so i called a hospital and here we are  
> [Makoto] That doesn't explain anything, but ok.  
> [Makoto] Good news though! :)  
> [ann] Is he out of the hospital  
> [akira] yea  
> [akira] he's staying with me :D

Akira lets out a shaky sigh. They're taking it well enough.

> [ryuji] gay  
> [Yusuke] I don't think you have much room for argument, Ryuji.  
> [ryuji] ;)  
> [ryuji] oh so NOW you appear  
> [futaba] well yea  
> [futaba] you two are the gayest here so it makes sense  
> [ann] true!!  
> [Yusuke] No. My phone was vibrating with an angry intensity, but now I see why.  
> [futaba] fuk of  
> [haru] i think we're getting off topic here .....  
> [ryuji] shit yea  
> [ryuji] WHEN CAN WE SEE HIM  
> [Yusuke] See who?  
> [futaba] swipe up inari  
> [Yusuke] Oh. This is ... some news, to say the least. I thought you said he'd lost signal, Futaba?  
> [futaba] hey idk the metaverse is some weird shit. even i cant b right all the time

He still needed to pry about that.

> [akira] yea i'm confused abt that too. i'll try asking more about it eventually  
> [akira] though tbf ryuji you were in an EXPLOSION and came out unharmed  
> [ryuji] :D  
> [akira] it might be a few more weeks before he's ready though. it took a lot of convincing to get his permission to let you all know in the first place  
> [akira] except for futaba because she still has leblanc bugged I:  
> [futaba] kek  
> [ann] o!! thats ok  
> [Makoto] I understand.  
> [ryuji] hope he feels better  
> [akira] i'm glad you guys took it so well though. i was worried you'd be angry or upset about it  
> [akira] esp haru and futaba  
> [ryuji] i still dont know how to feel about it. like i wasn't even related to any of the people he killed but it still just feels ... idk.  
> [akira] yea i understand  
> [akira] i just don't really have it in me anymore to be angry  
> [futaba] honestly i don't really blame akechi as much as i do shido  
> [futaba] also my uncle who wouldn't let me wash and made me sleep on the floor  
> [haru] hugs futaba  
> [haru] yea when i first realized things i was .. really bitter. i'm only a little bitter now tho. and while i do realize that what he did was wrong, he didn't really have any agency in what he was doing. he's just as much a victim of an unjust power structure as we are ):  
> [ann] (chants) ONE OF US !! ONE OF US  
> [Yusuke] I admire how you can all take a serious conversation and make it the exact opposite within the span of one message.  
> [ryuji] thats our specialty babe  
> [akira] y'all are great  
> [Makoto] Shouldn't you all be studying?  
> [akira] no i have a cute boy to take care of  
> [ryuji] GAY  
> [haru] you have a crush on your attempted murderer gkjdkjg  
> [ann] thirsty !!  
> [akira] i said he was CUTE not that i had a CRUSH  
> [futaba] i finally get some yaoi in my life >:)  
> [akira] anyways  
> [akira] as i said, i got a cute boy to go pamper ):<  
> [Makoto] Calling him cute twice in a row doesn't help your case.  
> [Yusuke] Agreed.  
> [ryuji] really gay  
> [ann] to be fair, you and yusuke are still the gayest here  
> [ryuji] exactly  
> [ryuji] gotta bring akira over to the gay side  
> [haru] akira's been on the gay side since the day he was born  
> [haru] just gotta find his gay mate  
> [haru] (gate)  
> [Makoto] I think I'll be ... returning to my studies. Thank you for the update, Akira.  
> [akira] you're all the worst  
> [ann] thats why u luv us  
> [akira] yea it is u-u  
> [akira] shit he's abt to wake up i gtg  
> [akira] bye  
> [futaba] maybe i should bug ur room too  
> [akira] BYE

The phone screen went black. His eyes went to Akechi, sprawled out without a pretense in the world. It was different, one of two times he'd seen him without his ace-detective-charisma (though this was actually kind of cute). On the other hand, it also made Akira partially glad that Akechi hadn't taken up his offer on bed-sharing. He was definitely a bed hog.

Morgana was, apparently, more than happy to sleep on whoever was taking the bed though. Akira could tell he'd been careful as to where he'd placed his weight; if he hadn't, he would've ended up squarely on Akechi's chest (many a nights waking up thanks to Morgana plopping all his weight onto his gut told Akira that much). He was sure the gesture was more intimate then Morgana passed it off as, however; Morgana was good at masking kindness as selfishness.

"Are you awake?" he asked, voice low, just in case.

Akechi looks his way, restricted to craning his neck in Akira's direction thanks to Morgana weighing him down. He squints; Akechi always looks in slight disbelief when he first wakes up, staring, like he's gauging the reality of the situation. He stays like that for a few more moments, watching Akira's general space but not him himself, until he shifts gears and actually meets the other's eyes. Akira can tell there is a biting remark stalling on his tongue, probably something about how if we were asleep he wouldn't be given a response anyways, but it's swallowed and replaced with a smile that's half dazed, half tired, all forced. "Yes." he answers dully.

In the few days that had passed since his release, Akechi had spent most of that time sleeping (as did Morgana, who, without work to be had, had since resigned to the cat-typical schedule of sleeping half the day). It worked well enough, especially for Morgana, who appreciated having a heat source that was more stagnant than Akira had ever been. 

"I've intruded long enough. It'd be best if I leave soon."

Akira grits his teeth and sucks in a breath. Talking to Akechi was akin to coaxing a wounded beast; one untimely movement and he would dart. He opens his mouth to refute, the one constant since they'd met, but Morgana, apparently woken up by the exchange, intervenes.

"No!" he hisses, and they both flinch at the shrillness. His eyes loom over Akechi with an intensity only a cat could muster. "He was really upset after he thought you died, you know. We all were. You can't just walk out the moment it suits you."

Akira laughs nervously. Even though he constantly assured Akechi that he was important to him -- he was pretty sure he had to else Akechi leave -- hearing someone else point it out was oddly embarassing. Still, he nods. "Right. I know that you don't like it here, but, you're staying for a little while longer. Sorry."

Akechi is still in awe at how often Akira manages to miss the point entirely. "I never said I disliked it here." he sighs, frustrated. "It's that I'm occupying your space, your bed, and you have nothing to show for it. I have no way to earn my keep."

"I mean, Morgana does the same thing." He answers easily. Morgana protests.

"Morgana didn't try to kill you."

He'd been hoping the deflection would have worked, but, well, it hadn't. "That doesn't matter. I don't need some return. I don't ask for payment, just because I'm doing something nice for a friend. That's not exactly how friendship works. There's some give, and some take. I do things for my friends because I like seeing them happy; that's all there is to it."

"Your friend." Akechi repeats, having returned to the same internal crisis he experiences at any slight affection. "I'm your friend."

"We've been over this, but yea. You're my friend and you're not escaping it."

"It's still .. hard to believe, sorry. I know I pretended to be something akin to it when we infiltrated Nijima-san's palace, but I was just acting, and we were just accomplices more than anything else. Tricking others is the only thing I've ever been good at, and -- thankfully -- you usurped me in that regard as well." he admits quietly. "Being honest, being treated nicely without being expected to give in return -- I really haven't experienced any of that until I met you. There was my mother, but I think she acted out of pity more often than not. I was more naive as a child, but I wasn't stupid. I knew she would have rather not had me around, given the choice. I wanted to, more than anything, apologize for my existence in whatever way I could. And I really did try, too. I'd help with chores, I rarely asked for things; but between my existence being a taboo, the cost of caring for a child, and the mental toll having me around took on her in general, no good behavior could stop her from ending her own life. That's how much she hated having me around. A bullet to the head was better than my company," he laughs roughly, brokenly. Morgana has left his spot on Akechi's legs and has since moved to the side of the bed, gingerly placing his head on his shoulder. Akira's at a loss for how to respond; it's rare for Akechi to accept Akira's affection in earnest, let alone talk about his past traumas. Akechi isn't comfortable with it himself, but he's sure if he stops his tangent now he'll end up crying and that is the very last thing he wants to do. "I'm the one who found her body, you know. I was coming home from school, and when I opened the door, she was there, on the couch. She'd blown her brains out right in the living room, and I didn't even wonder why, because I knew." He inhales, in a desperate, feeble attempt to gain some composure. "Even when I tried being good, someone still died because of me. I killed her. I'm horrible, I'm not good for anything."

He feels himself shaking. He holds his head in his hands. He tries not to break down, not in front of the one person who he'd been shoving all his baggage on in one way or another since the moment they'd met. It doesn't work.

When Akechi cries, he cries hard. He wheezes raggedly, still hiding his face with his hands the best he could. He didn't want to see Akira's reaction, he didn't want Akira to see him like this --

Apparently Akira had given Morgana some sort of cue, because he moves down the bed before crawling across Akechi's legs and slinking back up to him, in the same position he'd been in before but on the opposite side. Akira sits where Morgana was, places his hand gently on Akechi's shoulder, careful not to brush against any of his still-healing wounds. Akechi barely resists the urge to dig his own fingers into them, claw out the stitches and let himself bleed --

"I'm here. I want you here. I like your company."

Akechi really doesn't deserve it, but he sobs into Akira's chest anyways. He feels beyond humiliated, but the warm comfort it provides, alongside Morgana's head pressed lightly in his lap, almost makes up for it. He still wants to refuse and shove Akira away, tell him he doesn't deserve this, he never has, but any protest comes out as a shudder and more heaving.

The last time he'd lost himself so profusely was the last time he'd seen all the thieves, when he'd vowed to kill them all. It'd been different, then, though; then, he'd been portraying himself as infinitely powerful, a mass-murderer with nothing to fear. Now, he was just a whimpering, pathetic brat and he hated himself for it, hated that he was so easy to crack with just a few pokes to the right places.

"She was just one person, you know? Just because she's the one who gave birth to you doesn't mean her opinion of you is what you're really worth. I mean, my parents hate me, but I'd like to think I've been doing okay without their blessing."

That's enough to give Akechi some pause. "They .. do?" he asks and immediately regrets talking at all. His voice is unhinged and shaky and he hates it.

"Mhm." he hums, and it's Akira's turn to hesitate.

"I just more or less told you the main reason why I'm such a disaster. The least you could do is share." he growls, but it's a hollow, tired threat at best. His eyes are still puffy and sore, but he's stopped crying, at least.

"Right, right." he laughs nervously, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck. "I used to be their ace-kid, a good example as to what a teenager should be. Then, I had a criminal record and suddenly I was a menace, apparently. They were eager to get rid of me, told me I'd ruined all the effort they'd put into making me an upstanding citizen. I was going to go back once my probation ended, to try and sort things out with them, but they were quick to shut that down too. Told me they didn't want me around. That's why I'm still here." he shrugs.

Akechi huffs. "All the effort they'd put into you? You're not their pet project."

"I know. It hurts, though. I thought they'd really loved me, once, but I was just a means to their ego. But it proves my point, doesn't it? I don't have to worry about them anymore. I'm surrounded by people who genuinely care for me. You're the same, now."

Morgana nods in agreement, lifting his head up. "Exactly. Now that you've got me, and this guy, you're never going to go through life alone again. We aren't leaving you."

Akechi watches them both, searching their faces for any bit of doubt, disdain, but he doesn't find it. "Thank you, both of you." He desperately searches for a steer to the conversation, and a yawn bubbling in his throat is the answer. "I'm ... tired again, after that. I think I'll sleep for a bit longer. I'm sorry."

Akira sighs, but this time it's more out of fondness than frustration. "You're fine, I promised I'd go meet with Ryuji soon anyways. No need to apologize when Morgana does the same thing. And he's not even injured."

"Maybe not physically, but I will be emotionally if you keep bullying me!"

Akechi can't help but laugh.

\---

"I still don't know what to think about him, damnit."

Akira's hands fidget in his lap. Ryuji had invited him to ramen, which was nice enough, but he hadn't expected this to turn into a one-on-one talk about Akechi. Ryuji takes a moment to slurp, and, oblivious to Akira's discomfort, continues on.

"I mean, I know he was gonna die for us, but still, the man killed so many people. He put you through hell, and he killed Futaba's mom and Haru's dad. Forgiving him just feels .. off, y'know?"

"I know all of this." Akira answers, a bit more clipped than he'd intended. "Besides, I don't think he intended to kill Futaba's mother. I doubt he was aware of what a mental shutdown was, at that point." It was a weak retort, and Ryuji quickly latches onto that.

"Doesn't matter." he responds, punctuated by another aggressive slurp of his noodles. "That might've been an accident, sure, but what about the others? He killed them all in cold blood. All the apologies in the world can't bring 'em back."

Akira had managed a mouthful of his ramen by the time Ryuji's finished, but he's quick to shoot back. "I never said Akechi's actions were excusable, but he never killed for the sake of killing. After the incident with Futaba's mother, Akechi definitely would have been killed if he hadn't gone along with Shido's plan. He thought this was the only way he could get revenge on the person who ruined his life. I know what he did was horrible, and he knows that, too. I can understand if you don't think he's forgivable, but you can't just say he's nothing more than a murderer. He's as much of a victim of a corrupt system as we are, and he deserves a second chance. I'm not asking for any of you to forgive him, or even like him, but he went through a lot of things he didn't deserve. I want to make that up to him."

Ryuji stops. He's aware that he might not be the sharpest of his friends, but he knows Akira well enough to know that once he has a strong enough conviction, like the one he has for Akechi, there's no swaying him otherwise. "Right." he resigns with a sigh, chopsticks poking at the leftovers in his bowl. "I should, uhm, get going then. Mom needs help with some chores." he lies poorly, paying for his half of the food and leaving with a painful amount of haste. He still didn't know how to feel, and his conversation with Akira hadn't helped. He needed to think, by himself.

Akira takes it as him just being offended by his stance on Akechi, though. He watches Ryuji leave with no small amount of regret, pays, and leaves. He nearly leaves his scarcely touched ramen on the table, but decides to take it with him instead. Akechi probably tired of eating curry every day, and he knew Akechi wouldn't bring it up. 

He didn't regret what he had said, but seeing Ryuji so eager to get out of Akira's space made his chest ache.

\--

When Akira comes home, his troubles are plain on his face. Morgana, sitting neatly on one of the bar stools, notices immediately. "Hey." he chirps, climbing onto the bar so he can look Akira in the face. "What's wrong?"

Akira tries to dismiss it with a shrug, but Morgana's specialty is badgering. Him threatening to bring Futaba into it is enough for him to spill. Though he's exhausted from the exchange with Ryuji, he's smart enough to take the conversation in the backstreets else he wants Futaba's opinion, too. "Okay, okay. Me and Ryuji went out for ramen, and he brought Akechi up. Things kind of went south from there. He doesn't see Akechi as anything more than a murderer, I don't think."

Morgana, predictably, lets out a tiny hiss of frustration. "That idiot." Akira's pretty sure Morgana would be more sympathetic to the perspective if it was coming from anyone other than Ryuji. "I think forgiveness is subjective, though. For a lot of people, it's like saying that in the end, there was no harm done, which, in Akechi's case, definitely isn't applicable because he did hurt a lot of people. For others, though, and for me, too, it's just about losing feelings of resentment. I think that's a better way to put it. Still, even I can't help but feel bitter about him, sometimes, and he never even harmed me directly. But saying that I haven't forgiven him sounds mean, too." His eyes stare into the glass of Leblanc's door. "I want to see him happy, too, though. He doesn't deserve to go through the rest of his life like he always has. Making him happy can be our last mission as phantom thieves, even if it's our one job that might not be unanimous. I've got your back, and I've got his, too."

Akira smiles. "You're the best cat I could've hoped for, you know." He goes to pet Morgana's head, and he immediately returns to his usual self.

"Hey, I'm not some pet! Don't do that!" He swipes, much like Akechi had when he'd ruffled his hair back at the hospital, but more worrying is the fact that Morgana actually has claws to back his protests with.

\--

Eventually, Akira enters Leblanc again, a thoroughly disgruntled Morgana in his arms. As fun as teasing Morgana was, it was getting late, and Akira didn't have any reasonable answers if someone came to ask why he was sitting in an alley with a cat yelling at him. 

Akechi is, predictably, still asleep. Morgana, exhausted by Akira's harassment, settles on his legs again. Akira mocks a frown as he settles on the couch. "I can't believe you've abandoned me, Morgana."

Morgana sticks his tongue out. "Akechi doesn't try to pet me, so that's already one point in his favor." He yawns, stretching out the best he can without rousing Akechi. "He's on a bed, too, so there's another point. And, this guy practically radiates heat. Maybe, if you stop being such an icebox and stop trying to pet me, you'll get your Mona privileges back." He closes his eyes for a quick moment before looking at Akira again. "You need to get some rest, too. I might not give you curfews anymore, but I'm not letting you become a night owl."

Akira is, admittedly, tired, but he never misses a beat when it comes to teasing Morgana. "I'm not really tired, but I'll do it for you, Morgana. I love you."

"You're so gross."


	4. dramamine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was meant to be slow burn. but akira is gay, has no self-control and neither do i

Futaba wakes them up that morning.

"Hey, get up!" she crows. Akechi is staring at her like she's death incarnate, and Akira is just now waking up to observe the scene. Akira's sure she would have already shook him awake if not for the several dozen DVDs that were threatening to spill out her arms.

"Did I miss something? Did she say she was coming over today?" he asks, and Akira barely stops himself from laughing at just how utterly confused Akechi is.

"Futaba rarely announces herself." Morgana explains, curling up into a tighter ball. "I really miss the days when she wasn't a morning person. Now, it's a gamble as to if me and this guy get to sleep in."

Futaba's more than a little offended about the lack of enthusiasm towards her 7 AM break-in. "Alibaba needs no invitation." she grumbles, manhandling Akira to a point where she has him sitting up and with enough room for her to sit on the couch. Akira, not entirely 'there' when he's just woken up and especially not when it's at the start of the morning, whines but barely resists. Futaba finally lets the DVDs bundled in her arms slide out onto her and Akira's lap. "We made a deal, remember? Or have you been goggling so much your brain has turned to mush?" She jabs with a grin. Akechi, left out of a joke Akira has no desire to explain to him, stares tiredly.

Akira stares at the DVDs for a moment before it clicks. "Oh, right. You really were serious about marathoning Featherman, weren't you?" He shares a look with Akechi, who still looks incredibly bemused about it all.

"Mhm!" she chirps, sorting through the pile. "And you," she points a finger in Akechi's direction, who, finally catching onto things, gives a small smile in response. "Are gonna watch them all with me! No backing out now."

Akechi sighs, but it's more out of fondness rather than exasperration. "If you insist."

Futaba's grins are always a little bit terrifiying. "That's the spirit."

Five episodes into Featherman and Akechi is thoroughly emmersed. "This is nice." he hums, his prose refreshingly to-the-point. As funny as it was to see Akechi interested in something like Featherman, of all things, it was moreso endearing, and Akira knew Akechi well enough to know that if he pointed it out, even in jest, he'd go back to being self-conscious and act as if he was never interested. He lets him be.

By the seventh episode, Futaba is tugging at Akira's sleeve. He looks down, and in response she gestures her hand to the area downstairs. "C'mon. I wanna ask you something." She turns to Akechi. "Hey, I'm gonna drag him downstairs for a second."

"Why?"

"Oh -- I, uh, need to use the bathroom!"

Akechi chokes back a laugh. "He needs to come with, too?"

"That's not what I meant! Just, keep your eyes on the TV, okay? A cool scene is gonna be coming up." she barks, hurrying her way down the stairs with Akira following awkwardly behind.

He has a hunch as to what she wants.

\--

"So," she drawls, and her attempting to have any sort of tact is as amusing as it is painful. "You and Morgana talked yesterday, right? You went outside to talk and I can figure out why."

"The weather was nice?"

"Uh, nope. It feels the same outside as it does in your room." She glares with a worrying intensity, and Akira instinctively takes a step back. "You're hiding something from me, dummy. And I demand to be in on it."

Akira shrugs, contemplating his options. He could leave her in the dark for his own peace of mind, sure, but she'd just harass and bother him about it for the rest of his days, and he was certain that she could drag it out of Morgana if he was bribed with sushi. Futaba could be trusted, as long as he made it clear that she couldn't spread the word.

"Okay." he sighed, shoulders falling with resignation. "Can you keep a secret, though?"

"I've never blabbed!"

"You told Sojiro we were phantom thieves."

"T-that was different! I panicked."

"I know, I know. Okay, sit down, before you club me over the head, and I'll tell you."

\--  
Futaba is deep in thought by the end of the conversation. She drums her fingers against the booth table, and after a few minutes, Akira has to get her attention to come back to the land of the living. He taps her shoulder, not hiding the tease in his grin as she jolts upward.

"Oh, uh, right! Sorry. I was just thinking. Ryuji has his heart in the right place, I think, even if it's kind of a black-and-white stance." she brings her knees up to her chest. "I should be mad, you know? I have every right to be, after everything that happened once Mom died. The weird thing is, I'm not. I just don't have any anger towards him. What he did wasn't right, but he's not a villain. And, the state he's in now .. it kinda reminds me of how I was after you guys stole my heart, even if the situation's super different. I didn't know what to do with myself, and I was just trying to get used to the world in my new perspective. I wanted to get better, and thanks to you all, I did." She smiles, a bit flustered. "Think about it this way: it was hard for me to adjust to the world after learning that I'd never been in the wrong. Imagine how it is for Akechi, having the same thing happen, but instead you have to deal with the fact that everything you'd been doing was really, really bad. It's good that he realizes the weight of what he's done, but that's gotta be tough."

Futaba, for all her social awkwardness, picked up on emotions and put pieces together with a lot more ease than Akira did (and Akira liked to think he was fairly good at it). She was right, though; Akechi was just as much of a fish out of water, now, but unlike Futaba he was good at masking that, to an extent.

"So, you're saying you wanna be his friend?"

"We just watched like a billion episodes of Featherman together! We're already friends for life!"

Futaba shrieks, and Akira sorely misses his eardrums.  
  
"Right, okay then. Let's head back up."

\--

Akechi is out cold and Akira can't stop laughing at how dismayed Futaba is.

"He's asleep? He just woke up like an hour ago! We aren't even done with the first half of season one yet!" she whisper-shrieks. He's pretty sure Futaba could continue at her usual volume and Akechi wouldn't wake, but his hearing is thankful for the consideration, even if it was on Akechi's behalf.

"He doesn't have it in him to be awake for long, I don't think. He's still healing, and he's on a variety of pain medications because I'm pretty sure it'd be intolerable if he wasn't." Akechi never complained about it, but how he held himself stiffly and in a ball when the medication started to wane and he needed to take more, or the way he winced when he turned the wrong way, wasn't missed.

"Oh, yea, right." she nods, most of the irritation on her face gone. "Seeing him makes me tired too, though. I'm gonna go back and crash at my house -- next time I come over I'll grab all the stuff I brought over. Keep me updated on your boyfriend, okay?"

Akira definitely wasn't as intimate with Akechi as Futaba thought was; Akechi was better about not having a crisis every time he was showed common decency, but he still drew a blank at any hint of affection. He wasn't cruel enough to crush Futaba's hopes and dreams, though. "I'll try my best."

\--

It's well into the evening by the time Akechi wakes.

Akira never ended up sleeping; he knew he wouldn't get a wink later if he did, and his phone was more than enough to keep him occupied in the meantime. Learning how to keep himself quietly occupied had been a must during his first month or so in Tokyo. The weather often didn't accomodate for him to roam Shibuya, and the attic had once had nothing of entertainment other than some dusty, tried books (it was questionable if a bunch of old non-fiction books could be considered entertaining at all). Beyond the sounds echoing through from the outside, and the occasional tap-tap of his fingers against the screen of his phone, there was a comfortable lull in the dark attic.

For once, Akechi is the one to break that silence. "You're awake." He points out. He sits up, with enough consideration for it to not wake Morgana.

"There wasn't point in me sleeping yet, and I didn't feel like going anywhere. More importantly, you're awake." Akira looks in his direction and grins, teeth glistening in the phone's projecting light.

Akechi merely answers with a soft, sleepy smile, and Akira's heart flutters. Akechi looked more than a little captivating, glowing with the dim evening light that shone from the window. "I'm sure Futaba was disappointed in my inability to sit through her entire box set of Featherman."

"A little, yea. She understands, though. And she'll probably be back with a vengeance." Akechi winces a bit at the thought, and Akira snickers. "We should go out with her sometime to Akihabara. She'd be pretty thrilled about that, I think."

Akechi pauses, and Akira briefly fears he's made him uncomfortable somehow. "Maybe. I think it'll still be awhile before I can go that distance, however. I suppose I'm lucky I was shot in the chest, then."

Morgana, woken up some point in the conversation, gives Akira a knowing look and slinks downstairs.

"You're not lucky you were shot at all." Akira retorts. The brief period in his life when he thought Akechi was dead now would now be a cold, frightening place to return to. "I'm really sorry this all happened to you. I wish I would've reached out to you sooner. Maybe this wouldn't have happened."

Akechi shakes his head. "It's not your fault. The choices I made were very much mine, even if I was under the influence of someone else." His avoidance of saying Shido's name is noted. "I might not have paid for it with my life, but," He gestures to his chest. "I didn't come out unscathed, obviously. I'm sure it'll leave some sort of scar to haunt me with, too." He laughs, but it's empty.

"Show me." Akira blurts, and immediately wants to die thanks to his lack of tact.

Apparently Akira's horror is on his expression too, because Akechi smiles with a sort of hesitant amusement. "That's an odd request. Why?" Akira opens his mouth to explain, up until he realizes, by Akechi's smirk, that he's just pressing him for the fun of it.

"Is it okay?" Akira asks gingerly, avoiding Akechi's own question because he wasn't especially sure himself. He chalked it up to morbid curiosity, because this was a dauntingly tender moment as it was; he didn't need anything else addling him right now.

"I really don't understand, but yes." Akechi pulls the bottom hem of his shirt up with a movement that simultaneously seems too slow and too fast. Akira's throat goes dry, and it takes a mortifying amount of self-control to not take the opportunity for his eyes to roam the rest of his chest. Instead, he decides to sit beside Akechi on the bed; seeing the flesh proof of Akechi's vulnerability felt intrusive enough without him popping a wildly inappropriate boner.

The wound, situated a bit below the right side of his ribcage, was sewn up neatly, a maroon that would have been pretty were it on anything else. The bruising, a messy disarray of yellow and purple, trailed on until the jutting of his hip.

For all the unsightly blotting and swollen stitching, it was a strange comfort. It was evident, in the neatly stitched-up bullethole, to the few bruises that were slowly beginning to match his own skin tone again. He reaches a reluctant hand out, and, searching Akechi's face for any sign of resistance or discomfort, ghosts over the edges of his ribcage with the lightest, most gentle of touches.

"It was difficult trying to explain to the doctors why I had a bullet wound without an exit wound, yet no bullet in my body whatsoever." Akechi comments, desperate to detract Akira before he melted with the gentleness he was being treated with. This was all overwhelmingly intimate as it was. Luckily, it is enough for Akira to, with some reluctance, break contact and put his hands back in his lap as Akechi lets his shirt fall back into place. "Given my mental state at the time, and the circumstances in which it'd happened, explaining it wasn't an option. They were confused, skeptical, even, but they didn't press me for answers after that, thankfully. Having the bullet forever lodged in my body would have been poetic, though, wouldn't it?"

By this point, Akira knows Akechi well enough to know that this conversation will just spiral into Akechi talking horribly of himself if Akira doesn't steer the mood elsewhere. "I think you're overthinking things, there." Akira refutes. "I get that it's hard to believe, but I'm really, really happy that you're alive and here. I know you've been treated badly--" The understatement of the century. "but just trust me, okay? Believe in me."

Akechi doesn't meet Akira's eyes. "I'll try." he agrees quietly. "...When you asked how I survived, back at the hospital, I lied, you know."

There it was -- and Akira didn't even need to ask Akechi about it himself. "Yeah, I figured it was something like that."

"Why did you never bring it up? I'm not that fragile, you know."

"You aren't. You're a lot stronger than me." Akechi scoffs at the other's twisting of his implications, but Akira doesn't give him the time to actually retort. "I didn't want to push you to talk about something you didn't want to, and it's not like you would have had some motive behind not telling me. If you wanted to tell me, you would have came around in time, and you have."

"You're too trusting." Akechi comments and shakes his head. "I .. always knew about the Velvet Room. I doubt Caroline and Justine liked me very much, but it was my familiarity with them, and with you, according to Lavenza, that let the conscious of Lavenza save me. I was alive, but my consciousness was only restored alongside Lavenza's. Lavenza advised me to stay put until Yaldabaoth was taken down, but I still couldn't bring myself to leave the Velvet Room until I really felt like I could face the world again. I'd also been entirely unaware of the fact that my wounds would reappear once I rematerialized."

Akechi had been expecting some sort of frustration out of Akira, but to his surprise and relief, he only nods. "Why didn't you tell me this when I first saw you again?" It was a soft question, one out of genuine curiosity and concern rather than anger.

"It was too much for me to admit. I didn't want to acknowledge how cowardly I had been, hiding away in the Velvet Room until it suited me to show myself. I was going to tell you this sooner, but, since you never pressed, I thought there was a chance I could get away with not telling. But you've done far too much for me for me to just lie to you."

"You weren't ready to talk about it yet. There's nothing wrong with that. But," Akira flashes him one of those small, warm smiles that feels oddly and overwhelmingly intimate. "I'm glad that you're comfortable enough around me to tell me the truth."

Akechi hums, the tone of conversation light again. "You're the only one I could ever feel comfortable telling everything I told to you with." He admits, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. "Really, I'm just grateful you're allowing me to do so in the first place."

"Do you want to go to Big Bang Burger with me and Futaba tomorrow?"

Akechi takes a moment to register the very wide swerve in subjects. "I can always count on you to remain on-topic." He counters dryly. "But yes, I'll go with you, on the condition Futaba isn't using this all to bombard me with Featherman the moment she sees me."

"I'll try to keep her tame." Akira shrugs with mirth. "But I make no guarantees."

Akechi sighs with a fond exasperation. "You're exhausting, you know." He gently nudges Akira's side with his foot in a shooing gesture. "I'm going back to sleep. Good night, Kurusu-kun."

"G'night, Goro." He all but purrs, an irritating knowingness on his face.

Akechi chokes on air and scambles to toss a pillow in Akira's direction.

\--

By the morning, Akechi can't help but feel far too mentally unprepared for something as simple as eating at Big Bang Burger. What was even more pathetic -- at least in Akechi's eyes -- was that it boiled down to his reluctance to leave the security of Akira's room. But, as Futaba had so feverently insisted, hiding away wasn't something he could do forever, for his own sake and for the sake of not overstaying his welcome.

It was far from likely that Akira would ever even begin minding Akechi's presence, but it was a kindness that would feel disgusting to manipulate like he had in the past. He'd lacked that decency in the past; comparing his past actions to something as innocent as being housed by Akira was a blatant false equivalancy, but his mind was far too bent on dramatizing the possiblity for him to realize that.

More than anything, he just hoped no one recognized him today. It was unlikely -- he was fitted with a black jacket, the same one Akira had worn when the world thought he was dead, baggy jeans, and his hair tied into a loose ponytail. It was easy to mistake him for someone else, casual clothing and a charisma that had long since been discarded for unease and apprehension.

Wearing something other than his detective uniform always felt odd; even on the few occasions he'd worn argyle, still on the nicer end of casual, especially for a teenager, he'd felt horribly underdressed. Dressing like an average one of his peers was a foreign affair entirely, but he appreciated the anonymity. Anything was better than that forsaken reminder of a uniform, the proof of a role he'd shoved himself into at far too early an age.

Even with the chances of identification being comfortably slim, he still felt painfully self-conscious.

"I look off." He huffs indignantly, tugging at his jacket sleeve. There was no mirror -- thankfully -- so he couldn't size himself up, but the style of clothing was far enough of a cry from his usual attire for it to feel out of place.

Futaba, slouched in the attic corner, merely raises an eyebrow (though her face was almost entirely obscured by the handheld console she held only a few inches away from her face). "You look normal." she retorts, but her voice sounds distant compared to the furious click-clacking of her fingers. "Seriously. It's a lot more normal than wearing a peacoat or a dorky sweater vest every time you step outside." Akechi opens his mouth to argue, but he's cut off by the sound of more button-mashing. He glances to Akira, very much wanting the reaffirmation that his sweater vest was stylish, but he only receives a laugh.

"She has a point, you know." Akechi's dark stare only makes Akira's grin grow wider, but, in a small consolation, Morgana perches onto Akira's back with a growl, and the other immediately winces at the familiar feeling of claws needling his skin.

"You're all such bullies." He remarks, unimpressed. "We'd better get going before it gets crowded. I hate being dragged places during rush hour." Typical Morgana, treating even something as benign as fast food as its own mission.

But as Akira walks down the stairs, he still beckons for them with the same hand gesture he had after destroying a pack of shadows.

\--

"You dip your french fries in ice cream." It wasn't a question, but the mild disbelief was plain on Akechi's face.

"Everyone with good taste does." He hums, plunging a fry especially deep in a mischievous spite. "I'm weak for sweet and salty things."

Morgana and Futaba roll their eyes in unison. It takes a moment for Akechi to realize the implications, but once it clicks, he's buried his face in his hands to hide his flushed face. "How and why are you like this?" He half-hisses, half-mumbles behind his hands. Akira cackles, and Akechi doesn't need to see his face to know that he's smirking. There was a comfortable banter among the group, interrupted by the clang of the door across the restaurant.

It wouldn't have halted their conversation, not if it hadn't been accompanied by a hauntingly familiar voice.

"C'mon babe, this place is great. I promise."

"When I brought up a dinner date, this was not what I had had in mind. I'd been expecting something more .. formal than this--"

"I don't got enough money for that--"

Akechi really, really hopes he's attaching that voice to the wrong person -- he doesn't dare peak up from his hoodie to confirm -- but there's only person who could have such a blatant lack of volume control. He presses into the back of his seat and folds his arms in a desperate attempt to appear smaller; he's horribly mentally unprepared for this encounter. The others look a little on-guard, too, but he guesses that it's on his behalf.

He hears more conversation from both sides, but it's muffled and distant through his internal panic. He's not sure how much more time passes, it feels like an eternity to Akechi, but he finally, finally looks up when he hears the sound of chairs being pushed in their direction.

Seeing Yusuke and Ryuji felt just a little bit surreal, and he was sure the feeling was mutual. Their expressions, while apprehensize (Ryuji in particular), weren't hostile at all. More than anything else, they were appraising. It was better than outright disapproval, but Akechi had a hard time bringing himself to meet their eyes.

He was not a charismatic detective prince; he was a fragile, glass-hearted boy who ran off Akira's faith in him like precious gasoline. He didn't cut the same figure he once had, and even if he could, there was no way it would convince the people in front of him; they'd already witnessed what lurked beyond that mask, after all.

He doubted the two of them would treat him with open animosity, but Yusuke's smile at his bare-bone self, stripped of all charm and pretense, and watching Ryuji follow suit, no less, was entirely unexpected; but hardly unwelcome.

Yusuke speaks first. "It's about time we were able to see you in the flesh." It's a dry comment, but Akechi, a recent master of dry humor, understands the intent.

Ryuji hesitates a beat longer, but, he doesn't fail to add his input. "Damn right! You've been holding out on us for way too long." His voice is several decibels higher than Yusuke's, and Akechi shrinks behind his hoodie again when a few other patrons glare in disapproval of his (admittedly very mild) language. Futaba and Akira looked unfazed -- though Akira looks oddly puzzled, for whatever reason -- , Morgana looks pissed, and Yusuke just stares at Ryuji, totally and utterly endeared.

In spite of the exasperrated look Akechi shares with Morgana, he can't help but laugh softly. "My deepest apologies. Gunshot wounds aren't known to be especially invigorating." His voice is drenched in (well-meaning) sarcasm, but the implications were at least somewhat truthful. He'd been too concerned with hurting himself somehow, if he walked about too much, but what he wouldn't be letting them in on was that he couldn't have handled their appearance, say, two weeks ago. Even now, the suspension had been very exhausting, the anxious weight of it not something Akechi could have appropriately stomached with his earlier mental state.

He doesn't have much time to ponder that, though, because snickering trickles from the others (except for Ryuji, who stared on with a saucer-eyed, exagerrated woundedness). "Jeeze." he grumbles, offended, before finally chomping into a burger several times bigger than his face. But he has more to add, apparent by the way he doesn't bother properly swallowing before speaking again. "Y'know, when me and Akira talked, I didn't wanna forgive you at first, but," He breaks his sentence with an overdue swallow. "I thought about it, and then I figured, yeah, you did some bad stuff but you're not too bad a guy."

Akechi is quick to pick up on the others' reactions. Yusuke looks as in-the-dark as Akechi, but Futaba and Morgana both wince simultaneously, and Akira now looks like he'd rather be anywhere but stuck in this conversation. "Mhm, right." Akira sputters with an obvious forcedness. "Anyways. It was fun running into you two, but Sojiro told me I needed to clean around Leblanc for a bit, and I'd better to do that early rather than later." He lies with a bit more ease, and if it weren't for the context, and Akechi's ability to read Akira as easily as he did, he might have bought it. Still, he's in a hurry to leave before the conversation took whatever turn Akira was expecting it might. Yusuke seems to have caught onto the situation, and bids them a polite farewell. Ryuji looks more than a bit taken aback, but he doesn't badger; he can't, anyways, not when Yusuke presses a kiss to his cheek.

It's only then, not preoccupied with other details and following Akira out Big Bang Burger, that he realizes the relationship between the two. Out of all the thieves, a romance blossoming between Yusuke and Ryuji seemed laughably unlikely; he hadn't ever recalled them interacting much, and when they had it was more often than not Ryuji pointing out Yusuke's oddness.

Then again, Akechi had been too caught up in his own charades to pay any attention to the thieves' relations with one another; and Akechi was aware that your relationship, and feelings, toward someone could change on a dime. Those feelings were probably the reason why Akechi didn't press Akira for any details on whatever words he'd exchanged with Ryuji.

Still, when they finally entered the attic, Futaba taking herself and Morgana to her house out of some sort of intuition, he doesn't discourage Akira when he readily spills.

"So." He begins stiffly, with the awkwardness that only seemed to appear when he was around Akechi (he hated himself for slowly beginning to find it endearing). "About that talk I had with Ryuji--"

Akechi cuts in before Akira gets ahead of himself. "You don't have to tell me about it if you don't want to, you know." He didn't want Akira to feel pressured into this out of some misplaced moral obligation, and while he would very much like to know exactly what went on between him and Ryuji, he was fine with not knowing, if that was what made Akira comfortable. After all, Akira had allowed him the same kindness over a vastly more significant matter. But Akira insists.

"It's not that." He shakes his head. "I'm just nervous, is all." That could have gone without saying; it was evident in the way he stuffed his hands in his pockets, his shoe lightly scuffing the floor.

"Why? I've told you nearly everything there is to know about me, and yet," He narrows his eyes in mild irritation. "You think I'd forget what you've done for me, and be offended over a talk you had with Ryuji? You know me better than this, Ku-- Akira." Everything was equal parts intimate and harsh. "You said I needed to trust you, and you know I do, more than anyone else. But it's hardly rewarding when that trust is unrequited." His past decision to not push Akira was discarded, too spurred on by the fact that Akira thought there was a chance he'd blow up in his face to realize the change in motives.

Akira laughs out of sheer nerve. "Right -- you're right. I'm being stupid, sorry. I trust you, too." He says with a pure earnestness that makes Akechi feel warm, and a bit apologetic over his harshness. Taking a spot beside Akechi on the bed, he inhales in an attempt to collect himself, and finally confesses. "A while back, me and Ryuji, we went out for some ramen. You were brought up, and uh, I got more than a little defensive over you. Ryuji didn't think he could forgive you at the time, and I guess it just ... sparked something in me? He left, and at first I thought it was because he was upset with me, but I think it's just because he needed some time to think about things. He's pretty quick to come to conclusions, and even quicker to jump to another."

"You ... thought I might be upset over something like that? I'd never expected forgiveness from you, at first, you know. You might have came around the moment you saw me again, but I figured your friends were a little smarter."

"Cold." Akira laughs, thankful for some of the weight removed from the conversation. "But, no, now I didn't think you'd be, but I still felt a little anxious over it. When it first happened, though, I knew better than to bring it up to you. You were blaming yourself for enough as it was, and I didn't want to add my disagreement with Ryuji to your list."

"That's .. true enough, I suppose. You were right to wait." He admits, everything about him so much softer than it was moments ago, when he was lecturing. Akira puts a hand on his shoulder, and while it's unexpected, it's also the first time he finds himself relaxing into the touch of another rather than tensing up or pulling away.

"By the way," He starts again, with a familiar grin that lets Akechi know he's certainly up to something. His grip on Akechi's shoulder tightens just a little. "You said you'd told me nearly everything about yourself, but," He's getting closer, to the point where their faces are a tantalizingly few inches apart, to the point where he can feel Akira's breath, hot and waiting, on his collarbone. " _Nearly_ implies there's things you haven't told me, doesn't it?"

Akechi knows what Akira is trying, and Akira knows that Akechi knows, but his brain is on lockdown and for several moments he can't answer coherently, scarlet-faced with a deathgrip on his knee. He's this close to responding in the way Akira wants him too -- anything to wipe that smugness off his face -- , but that's exactly when Akira realizes he has a broken Akechi on his hands and pulls away, still looking plenty accomplished. "Maybe next time." He hums with an assuredness that was equal parts hot and infuriating.

Akechi isn't willing to lose entirely. "I'll be sure to load more of my tragic backstory onto you soon." He shoots back with a mocking fake obliviousness.

"And I'll listen to every word." Akira responds with a sincerity so sweet Akechi is sure it's supposed to make him feel guilty. "One more thing; you called me Akira, earlier."

Akechi didn't regret it. It'd felt very much like a first-name moment, but if Akira wasn't comfortable with that, he wouldn't repeat. "I did. What of it?"

"I know I call you by your first name when I want to tease you, but." Akira glosses a hand over the bedsheets. "I think we're too close to be calling each other by our family names. What do you say?"

"If you'd like." Akechi answers aloofly, if not only to hide how flustering the idea is. Akira catches onto that, too, though, and decides to make him pay for it.

"What about you, though? This is as much your decision as it is mine," He pauses, and Akechi thinks he's waiting for a response until he whispers lowly. "Goro."

A sound akin to a dying dove is strangled out of Akechi's throat, and he desperately shoves it back down. "Sure. That's fine."

There's the flip from cockiness back to an actual earnestness. "Okay. I'm glad." He gets off the bed, and Akechi doesn't acknowledge the very real disappointment he feels at the distance created. "I think I'm going to crash for now. Guess you will too, huh?"

"I'm not that predictable, am I?" He snarks, already pulling blankets over his body. "I am, though. That whole encounter, and you, are exhausting. I definitely could use the rest."

Akira, sprawled out on the couch, isn't the slightest bit ashamed. "You flatter me. Sleep well."

Akechi takes the opportunity and runs with it. "You too, Akira."

 


End file.
